Esme
by Micador
Summary: A closer look into when Esme's baby dies, and how she meets Carlisle. My very first fanficton, I would love to get some reviews, especially if you like it! Please read!
1. Esme's Baby

Twilight Fan-fiction

Esme

Chapter 1 – Sickness

I cradled the baby gently to my chest and waited for the pain to hit home. He was so beautiful, so soft and delicate. His pale pink skin was going cold as I held him there, his veins turning blue, and I felt the first of countless sobs rise and create a hard lump in my throat.

_Alex_.

Not even a week old. I'd only just named him. He was my first child, and, most probably, my last. How could I go on when already the crushing weight of guilt was beginning to consume me? My insides shuddered as I broke into loud, hysterical sobs, tightening my hold, pressing my eyes shut so tightly that they shut out all the light from the already dim bedroom, and I could pretend…hope…that it was all a dream.

A warm hand rested on my shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. I opened my bleary red eyes, my throat still issuing a sad whimpering noise between choked breaths. The nursemaid was looking at me solemnly, "Esme," she said firmly, but with pity. "It's too late. He's dead." I heard her words, but somehow my brain couldn't program what they meant. They repeated in my head eerily. _It's too late. He's dead._

I began to sway back and forth in the old rocking chair, it squeaking slightly in protest, and held Alex to my chest earnestly. I bent down and kissed his forehead tenderly, my lips shaking, and then began stroking his face with the curled outside of my hand, my fingers quivering as they brushed his tiny face. So beautiful, my Alex. I still remembered the bright, sparkly green of his eyes, like shining emeralds.

"It's okay, darling," I whispered, still rocking. "Mommy's coming home soon."

Jaime was nowhere to be seen. Coward. I'd never loved him, not like I'd loved Alex, but it had never been my choice. When you belonged to a wealthy family like mine, marrying was never a matter of love. It was of socially appropriate matches, and of connections to other wealthy families and of business proposals. _"I'll get my daughter to marry your son, and you can be my business partner! We'll take the world by storm, you and I." _This was how it had been for me. Jaime's father was another powerful man, and turning down that offer was not an option. Not when he regarded me as a "healthy specimen", sure to provide some fine offspring to carry on his name.

Jaime had been trying to get me pregnant for years, but had failed, to the displeasure of his father, and of mine. But when the moment finally came, I'd been filled with such excitement. A little baby, a life, growing inside of me. The birth had been hard; so much blood and tears, and screaming. But when little Alex had finally arrived into the world, Jaime's only reaction was a disappointed sneer. "He's sick," he had said with a mocking grimace. Jaime had failed, again, and he knew it. Because the fact is, Alex _was_ sick. It was obvious in the yellowish tone of his skin, the way his body rejected food, he was never hungry, and how he coughed so hard at night that in the morning there would be blood around his mouth.

I had wept for his sickness, prayed for him, stayed with him, despite the inevitable truth spoken by the doctor. Alex had only a day, perhaps hours, to live. He had held on though, my little boy, and on the morning of his third day, after his worst fit of coughing yet, his body gave in. And he died. There, in my arms. Peaceful at last.

"Esme," the nursemaid said again. "I'm sorry, but you have to give him to me. We must cleanse his body for burial."

"NO!" I wailed, clutching him to me, a fresh load of tears pouring from my stinging eyes. "He's mine!"

She moved towards me and attempted to take Alex out of my arms.

"You have to let him go," she informed me with a brisk efficiency that made me sure she'd dealt with a situation like this before. "His soul must find a clear path to the afterlife."

I loosened my grip on Alex slowly, with much effort, and when the nursemaid finally had him in her arms instead of mine, it was as if a something inside of me died. A devastating pain filled my heart.

"I'll be with you soon, Alex."

Chapter 2 – Bare Feet

The Funeral had been terrible. No parent should ever have to bury their child. I had to leave halfway through because I could not take it anymore; seeing the downsized wooden coffin with my baby in it, being lowered into the dark, moist earth. It was what pushed me over the edge. That, and Jaime's face. He didn't even look sad, his white shirt collar sitting perfectly stiff over his smooth black suit, the ensemble screaming wealth at everyone with half a brain. My own attire consisted of a black silk dress with a petticoat and corset, buttoned up the back and long-sleeved for the cool weather. The extra arm length, however, did not warm the icy-coldness of my heart, and so, as I escaped the morbid graveyard, full of memories longing to be forgotten, I knew exactly where I was going.

The waves disintegrated against the rocks, beating themselves senseless, a hundred metres below me. Cool air rushed at me from all directions and in the sky the dark grey thunderclouds boomed ominously, predicting the coming rain.

I shivered as goose-bumps rose on my skin, and wriggled my bare feet closer to the edge. I had abandoned my shoes shortly after leaving the funeral, realising that, while the heels I had been wearing were gorgeous indeed, they were impossible to run in. It was true that all etiquette books of the time stated that women of taste never _ran, _never _rushed _even, that women of taste were always to be cool, calm and collected, and if the need to do so arises, a slight _quickening _to the pace is the best form, and always quicken with poise. But the thing was, quickening my pace was not going to allow me to escape from the high society men and women at the funeral, so I was going to run, no matter what some book said.

The wind teased my hair out of its carefully set bun, causing wisps of caramel tresses to tickle my cheeks and tangle in the strong breeze. Another thing I had discarded was my veil; it had been effective in hiding my tears from the guests, but not at all helpful in my bid for freedom.

The guests. I realised they would now be looking for me. Or, at least, Jaime and a group of his fellow associates from the men's club. None of the women of course, lest they ruin their hairdos.

The thought made me angry. Jaime. Who hadn't even cried at his baby boy's funeral, who would probably take advantage of me even tonight to try and produce another heir, despite my distraught state of mind.

I took another step towards the edge, my toes just peeping over the rim of the cliff, so close now I could feel the tingle of salt spray. So close now…so close to being with my Alex. His angelic smile, his emerald eyes…my little boy… But would I reach him? Wherever it was that he was? I had read in the bible that suicide was a sin against God, and that if one committed it their soul could not be saved and they could never enter Heaven's gates. I didn't truly believe it; suicide was a desperate measure, true, but banishes you from the afterlife? Surely not. At least…even if I didn't reach heaven…I wouldn't have to think anymore…or be in pain.

I was startled out of my reverie by the sounds of people, men to be specific. All shouting something; my name: "Esme!" "Jaime, look it's Esme!" "There she is!"

And then, more panicked: "Quick, I think she's going to jump!"

The men began running towards me, Jaime at the lead, a look in his face like determination, but with a wrongly possessive undertone. He knew I was trying to get away, and he was going to drag me back. He didn't believe I would jump.

Well. He was wrong.

I mouthed the word goodbye to him, feeling more at peace than I had felt in a long time, so much so it was nearly euphoria. I had just enough time to see him scream out "NO!" in protest, his legs struggling to reach me, like he was running through quicksand, before diving off the edge and plummeting into the chill air.

I was flying through space, exhilarated and alive with adrenalin pumping through my body. I realised, with some vague surprise, that I was about to die. Strange, I'd never given much thought to it… Would it hurt? The question didn't bother me as much as it should have. A moment's pain and I would be forever at peace…that was enough for me.

The last thing I remember was the crashing waves rushing up to meet me, and then I was plunged into darkness.

Chapter 3 – Death

Death is an inconstant catalyst. Sometimes you want it, more often you don't. Sometimes it enters your home and brushes you with its icy fingers, other times it decides to pass you by, and visits your neighbours instead. But, above all, death is inevitable, and it affects everyone and everything around it, for better or for worse.

In my life I had experienced much death, but none as painful as Alex's. None painful enough to take my own life, until his. If only I had died…

The one thing my groggy mind became aware of as I woke was the blinding pain. I couldn't make a sound because of it. It stabbed through my chest like a knife, and penetrated the hard bone of my skull to the same effect as a drill. It put my limbs in vices, and slowly, excruciatingly, crushed them. I'd thought I'd been leaving the world of pain forever, and now this? Maybe I was in hell… It was difficult to even form a coherent thought.

Something was draped over me, I realised, as I forced my sticky eyelids open. Something smooth…and white; a sheet. I could see the faint circular glow of a gas lamp shining through the thin cotton, so it was either night time, or nearing it. I was lying on something hard, very hard, obviously not a bed. I gently tapped one fingernail on it and heard the recognisable ping of metal.

_Oh my Lord_, I thought, with a horrid realisation. _I'm on a gurney_.

I heard the light scrape of footsteps, and stiffened. The movement sent shockwaves of pain up and down my spine, and this time I cried out. In a split second the sheet covering my body was whipped off, and the face of an angel was staring down at me.

The gas lamp was behind him, making it appear that he was glowing with a kind of heavenly light, his golden hair forming a halo around his perfect face. He had topaz coloured eyes, the same liquid gold as his hair, burning with molten desire. I felt it almost tangibly. And his skin was white! Like the colour of freshly fallen snow before it has been tainted with dirt, all white, save for the slight purplish shadows under his eyes from not enough sleep. _You too?_ I thought questioningly, and in that moment I could have laughed for the sheer randomness of that thought, for I had suffered many sleepless nights in my lifetime. That thought, which was so unimportant next to the nightmare of waking up on a gurney after trying to kill myself, and being riddled with pain in and out (which surely meant multiple broken bones).

Funny that; in his presence I had forgotten my pain completely.

He was not human though. I knew it at once. Whether he was an angel or even a god, there was no mistaking those simple words. He. Was. Not. Human.

And as a slight smile grew on his face, a familiar smile, it felt like I had known him my whole entire life. And even though we had never met, never seen each other before, or at least I had certainly never seen him, a name rose into my mind and hung, suspended.

_Carlisle_.


	2. Carlisle

Carlisle

Carlisle

Chapter 4 – Change

I ached to reach out and touch her face, brush her soft caramel hair with the tips of my fingers. She was perfect; exactly what I had been looking for. But there was no time to waste. I was lucky she was even still alive, given the extent of her injuries. And I could see she was in pain; it was in her eyes, even as she smiled at me like I was some angel come down from heaven. I returned her smile, as I did so feeling a tugging at my heart as I realised I would be putting her through even more pain.

_Mooch through enough morgues, and eventually you're gonna come across someone who ain't quite dead yet._

She smelled so good…the blood, the scent of it, was wafting up from her broken flesh and into my nostrils as I inhaled. I suppressed a shudder of desire as I fought to stay in control of myself. _You can do this, _I encouraged myself. _You did it for Edward, now do it for her._

This made me think of him. Edward had been quite moody of late; fighting with the urge to kill that was ever present. He knew that I had no hidden intentions in choosing to feed from animals; I believed it was the right thing, no questions asked. And from the number of times he had searched my mind, he had found nothing to shake that. Yet he still struggled with it. I knew he would leave soon, to try and find his own path. It made me…sad to realise this. No, more than sad, anxious and concerned for his safety…which was ridiculous, really. If anyone could take care of themselves, it was Edward, but still… I only hoped he would return soon after.

Edward had been more than willing for me to create another. He knew that I longed for another companion, a soul mate if you will. Not just for myself, but a mother for Edward as well, who had only known his biological mother briefly in his human life. A motherly figure that would cherish him in a way I could not. Not that I was going to deprive anyone of living their lives in my search! How could I? No, instead I had quite systematically traveled to all the places a living person should not be, and I had found one. But only just.

And yet I still felt so selfish! Conflicting emotions screamed at me on one side to leave and on the other to stay and finish what I had started. Did I really need another companion? I had Edward still, and if he left…well, I would find him again. I couldn't leave her in this state though; I had decided it the moment I realised she was still alive. Leaving her alive would be cruel. And changing her would be damning her to hell. What to do? And what if, after all of it, it didn't work out? Then I'd feel even worse.

Her breathing was becoming more rapid, and as she slowly stretched her hand towards me in desperation the pain in her eyes intensified. I took it carefully, her small hand fitting easily into mine, and on impulse I leant the palm of my other hand against her cheek, hoping my cool skin would be of some relief.

She exhaled and closed her eyes, her breath tickling my skin. The thump of her heart beat was fading, growing ever slower. I had to do it now, otherwise she wouldn't make it. _Do it Carlisle! _My inner-voice urged. _Quick,_ b_efore she slips away! Either that or end her misery._

I uttered a quick prayer before kneeling beside her, so my face was right beside her wrist. I took a deep breath in preparation, slowing running my lips along the pulse point on her wrist, inhaling her addictive scent. Then that was it; even the guilt was not enough to stop me. My arms locked her forearm in a vice-grip so she couldn't move away. Not that I thought she would struggle; she had passed out.

I felt my canines slide down in anticipation and venom begin to salivate under my tongue. I opened my mouth and gently bit the vein in her wrist, waiting for the rush as the poison entered her body. Her blood instantly began flowing into my mouth, and the shock of it was unimaginable; like having a 200volt electrical current surge through your body. It zapped all my senses awake and set me on edge, my body tingling all over. I could literally feel the strength quivering in my muscles as the animal inside of me tried to take over. One wrong move and…snap! It would all be over, and this search, so near its end, would have to be restarted.

I jerked my head away from her wrist, gasping and fighting for control. _Oh God, what have I done? _I covered my mouth with one hand, my fingers spread across my face, and squeezed my eyes shut. _It's too late now._

She recaptured my attention when she cried out in pain and began to flay on the gurney, jolting her broken bones. How would I fix them? Realising my lack of choices, I gathered her into my arms tightly and left the morgue.

Chapter 5 – Rebirth

I waited as her eyelids fluttered open and those gorgeous honey eyes took in their surroundings. Her gaze found mine and I felt my throat tighten up. What if I had been wrong? What if she wasn't the angel I had envisioned? Or she didn't…like me? Or Edward, for that matter? What if she and I were too different? Perhaps she would not embrace my way of life, and she would choose to hunt humans instead? Could I live with that?

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she tried to comprehend what had happened, and then a different expression filled her eyes which I should have recognised instantly, after all my years training as a doctor, but I didn't. Before I had time to react she promptly rolled over and vomited onto the dirt.

Her vomit was a sickly yellow-pink colour, randomly splashed through with psychedelic swirls of red. I didn't need medical training to know what they were.

Once she had finished coughing and hacking (quite similarly to that of a cat with a nasty hairball) she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and turned to look at me queerly.

"Who are you?" she questioned with fire in her eyes. "And where am I pray tell? Because I assume you have brought me here for a reason."

I was shocked into silence. But only briefly.

"You remember…nothing?" I asked, disbelief colouring my tone.

"What exactly am I supposed to have remembered?" she countered.

_Oh dear. Now, this could end badly. Tread carefully, Carlisle, these tiles have a habit of slipping._

"Well," I began, breathing deeply. "What is the last thing you remember before now?"

She pursed her lips, before curiosity got the better of her and her eyes took on a glassy, distant look. Then she gasped.

"The cliff!" she cried. "Oh my gosh, the cliff! I jumped and somehow…"

She turned to look at me speculatively. "I'm dead, aren't I?" she asked, her initial boldness beginning to wear thin. "I'm dead and I've ended up here." She spread her arms wide, gesturing to the bleak landscape. It was true; I hadn't exactly picked a prime location to take her, but it was desolate enough that I didn't think we would be disturbed. We were about five miles from the nearest town, two kilometres off the road, it was an overcast day, and were sitting in the middle of a dead grass paddock. Again, not exactly a prime location.

I was speechless. What was I to say to this audacious, beautiful woman? She had no idea what had happened to her. How would I explain? _Clears throat I'm sorry to have to inform you, dear lady, but three days ago I poisoned you and you are now a vampire, only you haven't realised it yet. _

She stood up abruptly and dusted herself off; her jaw was set firmly, but her eyes betrayed the panic she was feeling. She began walking away from me, and the vomit she had left coagulating on the ground, with her head held high in dignified silence.

"Wait!" I called, standing up taking a step in her direction. She did not turn, nor did her fast pace falter; anyone would have thought she didn't hear me.

"Where are you going?" I asked, proceeding to follow her, but keeping my distance.

She paused. "I don't know." Her voice cracked mid-sentence and she covered her face with her hands.

I caught up to her and gently removed her hands from her face. She made no move to stop me and, when I could see them, her eyes were brimming with grief.

"There is something I need to tell you," I started.

"Like why I'm here?" she asked, tilting her chin to look at me directly.

"Well, the thing is…" I spoke slowly, thinking my way through each sentence. "You _did _die, only…"

"I knew it!" she interrupted miserably, before collapsing back onto the ground.

"Wait, let me finish," I said, only just holding back a small chuckle. "The thing is you're dead, but not entirely. You're…undead."

"Undead?" she repeated, her eyebrows raised.

"Okay, let me rephrase that," I tried. "You're not dead, but you're not alive either. The thing is, I found you on a gurney, and…"

"A gurney!" she cried, and I could have sworn I saw memories stirring to life behind her eyes.

"Yes, well," I continued. "You were still alive, but only just. And I…bit you."

"_What?_" she squeaked in indignation.

"It was the only way I could save you!" I pleaded, hoping for her acceptance. "I turned you into a vampire, like me, so you wouldn't die."

"A _vampire?_" She stood up now, her eyes wary, and took a step back.

"Yes," I said firmly with as much sincerity as I could muster. "Can you not feel the difference already?"

She looked at her hands quizzically, her eyes lingering over the obvious teeth marks on her wrist, and then explored the shape of her face with her fingertips. Her gaze roved over her tattered black funeral gown and her bare feet that, although they were still very white, needed a good wash.

"I feel unbreakable," she said finally. "And frozen." She was quiet for a moment, before stating hopelessly, "What you're asking me to believe is impossible."

I took a deep breath. "So you don't believe me?"

"Well, I don't know!" she cried. "I mean, vampires are just not real!"

"Am I not real to you?" I murmured, taking a step towards her. She did not move away, but turned her head so she could avoid my eyes.

"Here," I said, taking her hand and placing it over my heart. "Do you feel anything? Any thumps of my heart to prove I truly live?"

We waited together for her to sense the thrumming of life beneath her fingers. It didn't come.

"No," she said in a hushed whisper, her voice hoarse. "I feel nothing."

"Do you believe me now?"

She took a minute to consider this, and to gather her thoughts. By the time she spoke she seemed more herself. "I think so," she admitted slowly. "I mean, it's damn near impossible to explain why I'm even here, and that reason is as good as any I guess. But if I'm a vampire, how is it possible for me to be out in the sun? I thought vampires were allergic to sunlight."

I glanced up at the darkening sky.

"That's a myth," I explained. "As is the whole 'we-sleep-in-coffins thing', and we certainly do not turn into bats."

"But will I have to drink blood?" she whispered, almost like she was afraid to even form the question. I hesitated, and that was enough for her.

"Oh well isn't that just perfect," she scoffed, her terror coming out in sarcasm. "You know what? I feel thirsty already. Is that what it's like? You start off thirsty and it just gets worse and worse until you just attack someone?" By the end her voice had risen an octave.

"It's really not that bad," I assured her, though I didn't fully believe my own words. "I don't hunt people, only animals, and I…" I trailed off, seeing that I was only making her more upset.

"But I don't want to." Her face crumpled and she stumbled away from me a few more steps before her legs gave way. She sank to the ground and wept into her hands.

Chapter 6 – Possibilities

I let her cry; it was better for her to get it out now, rather then at a more inconvenient time. For the while I sat down, too, and pondered my new position. I had made a new vampire, and as a strong fledgling she would need to be taught the basics soon; what to do, what not to do. She would need to know the extent of her own strength, and how she could control it. I would have to teach her to stay away from humans at all times, or at least for the first couple of years, and, most of all, she needed to work out whether she wanted to stay with me, or go out on her own. It was common for young vamps to stay with their maker, as far as I knew, but with a daring beauty such as she, who was to say she wouldn't just leave on a whim? Get up and go? The possibility of this seemed likely. Yet I was still taken with her; it was not her face, it was her everything; her heart and soul, her personality, her rebelliousness. And I didn't even know her name.

I became aware that her crying had stopped, and when I looked up she was standing there quietly, almost waiting for me to acknowledge her.

"My name is Carlisle Cullen," I said softly. "What's yours?"

A slight smile twitched at the corners of her lips. It took my breath away, just like it had the first time; in that morgue three days ago.

"Esme," she said. "My name is Esme."


End file.
